Shattered Lights Still Shine
by youhavenopoweroverme
Summary: Pitch Black is a First Order general, dedicated to engulfing the galaxy in darkness, when he meets an old friend by pure chance: Princess Anna, resistance ally. She remembers him as the good man he used to be, while Pitch isn't sure what to make of the little girl he used to know, now a brave and beautiful rebel. Star War AU.
1. Dusted Off

The young man coughed and hacked, his agony and exhaustion clear. Flecks of blood peppered his blue shirt and his muscles shook from the pain he'd been in for who knows how long. Strapped tightly in the interrogation chair, he weakly tried to brace himself for more, but a quiet, velvety voice ordered the stormtroopers to stop.

A lithe figure glided out of the shadows, dressed in a crisp, well-tailored black uniform trimmed with gold, a hollow smile on his pointed face.

"Have had enough fun for one afternoon, Frost?" The Lord High General of the Galaxy asked civilly.

"Plenty." Speaking was a labor as he tried to breath more deeply, but he managed to make his response sound unimpressed. Soot-colored sand was still pouring out of his nose from one of Pitch's favorite ways to question captives. Sandboarding almost made the beatings and shock sessions preferable.

"I understand. Too much excitement for one day." Pitch's smirk deepened unsettlingly. "Well, you haven't been the most stimulating captive I've ever had yourself. But you still gave us something useful to work with, so I'll give you the rest of the afternoon off."

He walked away with his men, self-satisfaction evident in every step. As he exited the chamber with them, he turned to Jack and said, "Rest up for another round tomorrow. And try not to wander off."

Jack heard him laugh to himself as the doors shut and he was left alone in the dark room with only his thoughts. He sighed, wishing in vain that he still had his ice staff with him.

After a few moments of trying to figure a way to loosen the straps around his wrists, the doors opened again. A stormtrooper entered the room, possibly one of Pitch's from before.

Jack groaned, his heart sinking. "Again? Don't you people ever take breaks? Have hobbies? Maybe knit?"

The stars shone across the galaxy like polished jewels, with planets of various colors and sizes scattered all around the unfathomable blackness. It might have been a lovely view to most people, but Pitch couldn't enjoy it as he gazed at it all from his ship's control room, hands behind his back. Among those stars stirred a rebellion, an attempt to keep the galaxy shining bright with courage and optimism, hope that the First Order's glorious reign could be put to an end. The Resistance was a pestilence upon everything he and his master the Emperor had built. He would see that every beacon of hope they created for the weary and scared would be put out without mercy.

Still. There were small blessings. A smile grew on Pitch's face, thinking of the amusing day he'd had with the rebel pilot they'd captured. A particularly large thorn in his side, Jack Frost. He'd finally chased down the boy on a mission to retreat sensitive information regarding plans of an attack on the Order's homebase and quite possibly other missions, and dragged him into the Lightkiller Base, feeling like a proud loth-cat carrying the largest, fattest prey he'd ever catchy. The boy had been questioned sharply, but had shown an impressive will and told them very little, only that he'd given the plans to his little OL4-F unit, which was who knew where.

That was a frustrating turn, but Pitch was pleased nonetheless. His men were well trained in the art of extracting what they needed to know, and would hear what those plans were soon enough even if they somehow didn't manage to find the droid. And the Resistance's favorite little jet fighter might prove to be an entertaining guest once he lost his nerve. His mood lifted as he considered inventive ways to make him talk, when he was interrupted from his thoughts.

Lieutenant Hans Westergaard and his partner had entered the room. Westergaard and Pitch had no love for each other, but had to work together anyway. The prince of an old family devoted to the Order, Hans was annoying little man full of unwarranted self-importance, but admittedly not horribly incompetent at his job. "Your Highness! We've got another captive. Quite a little prize for the Order this time: the Princess of Arendelle, caught prowling around the prison wing."

There was a short pause as shock washed over Pitch. Occasionally they did capture rebels of some importance, even a royal once in a great while, but most royalty and nobility were loyal to the Order. And royals usually did their fighting from their ships, giving commands and forming strategic plans; rarely ever personally going into the thick of battle or on espionage missions.

And little Princess Anna from her modest little planet of Arendelle was the very last one he'd ever expect to see on one.

He made sure his face remained smooth and none of the surprise showed, only giving them a curt nod. "Very good. You'll escort me to her shortly."

"Yes, sire." Pitch knew Hans loathed addressing him by such formal titles, but could do nothing but spit them out. "She's in a holding cell right now. The interrogation is about to begin, and your presence will be-"

"All that's required. I have no need of you or any officers."

Hans' mouth twitched in irritation for a second. "Yes, sire. Will the mind probe suffice, or will harsher questioning methods be needed as well?"

Pitch stopped and cut his officer off coldly. "For a member of royalty? I had the impression my crew were basically competent at treating prisoners, but-"

"A _treasonous_ prisoner, Your Highness."

"A title I'll be happy to apply to you, Westergaard, if you doubt my ability to handle a teenage girl. We have no shortage of torture tools, and my sandboarding always seems to work just fi-"

"My sincerest apologies, sire. I'll see that you aren't disturbed and finish overseeing our next mission." He walked away with his sloped nose in the air, his partner dogging beside him. Pitch gave some orders for his crew in the room, then began his walk to the chamber.

Truthfully, Pitch could hardly care if a captive was a dirty beggar or the Queen of Corona. Traitors were traitors. He abided by war protocol, but didn't go too out of his way to show a politician or noble special treatment. This time, however, he wanted to deal with the Arendellen princess himself, without his men crowding him.

His men escorted him to the interrogation chamber in near silence but for the sound of their boots on the floor, Pitch being lost in thought.

Anna. When had he seen her last? Three, four years ago? He had forgotten all about her.

No, not forgotten; she had just been sitting at the back a corner of his mind out of sight, along with every other bright thing about his life before the Dark Side had purified his soul in a blackened glory. He had no reason to ever think about his former friend Agnarr's youngest daughter with the hopeful eyes, ignorant of her family's crimes, or the dance they had shared the last time he'd seen her, the two them equally unknowing of the beauty of the Darkening lingering on their galaxy's edge.

He decided he would question her gently unless she gave him reason to do otherwise.


	2. New Nightmares, Old Dreams

Anna had been shut up in a small cell where she sat on the bare bed, knees tucked under her chin. To keep herself from panicking, she bit her bottom lip, making it bleed a bit. She had really botched the plan. She didn't know what they would do with her. And Anna was just as worried for Jack, who didn't even have the protection her own royal birth might afford her. _If they laid a hand on him_… A little anger flared back up. Not enough to drive the fear out entirely, but at least it was there.

Some faint movement to the right caught her eye and made her look up sharply with a gasp. A tall, gaunt man entered, quiet as a ghost. She swore the door had not opened. His attire and hair were all black, his skin ashen, set off by his golden eyes, the only color in the entire room besides herself. A lovely, familiar glow radiated from them.

No. She felt like her heart would twist itself in half, so great was the pain in her chest as she was struck with recognition.

"Princess Anna." A low voice startled her out of her staring and made her sit up straight.

It couldn't be. How? He was a Resistance general, a war hero, the brave man who always spoke kindly to her as an energetic child. The First Order had no room for brave, kind men like him. She never knew what had happened to the gallant young man. After a while she had started to assume the worst, but this was a horror she hadn't anticipated.

He took a step closer. "I remember you asked to see me again after the war. I regret that this probably not the way you had in mind."

"Kozmotis?" She licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry her lips had stuck together, and her voice betrayed all the vulnerability she had tried to hide the whole time she'd gotten captured.

He frowned more deeply at the name. "Kozmotis is dead, Your Highness. Weak and frail and mercifully killed by the Darkening. I am Pitch Black."

"The… Darkening?" Her voice shook a little.

"The entity of darkness I came across on a mission more than three years ago. It gave me a transformative purging…" He stepped back into the shadows and disappeared. "…and blessed me with gifts." Anna jumped in fright as he appeared now to the left at her shoulder.

"So, you see, Anna…" He held up a thin hand and a strange black dust swirled up from it. "I am not who you remember."

Anna could say nothing for a moment. She was afraid she would cry if she did, and he was standing too close for her to hide her tears. Her heart went out to her old friend. Whatever that entity was, that monster, it had hurt him, and made him _happy_ about it.

She swallowed her sorrow and looked up at him, forcing herself to meet his eyes. His skin was once alabaster with a healthy glow, and his golden eyes lit up easily. His smile had always been close-lipped, but warm. Now she saw his features were still handsome enough, but almost corpse-like, with a face that clearly did not see need of smiling much, if ever. Even his eyes no longer looked into hers with polite inquisitiveness; they shone hotly on a cold face.

Anna cleared her throat and tried to sound strong. "But… you _do_ remember me? How we used to be friends?"

"I do," was his cool reply. "But I'm a little surprised, to say the least. I thought you'd be married by now. Or helping your sister run that little planet. Didn't really think rescue missions were the sort of dreams you meant to chase when you were a child."

Anna swallowed. She'd need to think of a lie soon, anything. She and Jack couldn't be connected to each other. The relative safety she'd been living in would be destroyed if they figured out he was the one she was trying to get to, if they associated her with the Resistance.

"Just what _is_ your sister up to, anyway?"

"Elsa…" Anna said weakly. "Elsa's busy being the queen. She doesn't have time for me. She never has." Anna had practiced that lie many times. She and Elsa long ago had agreed to put up a public facade of estrangement, the better to avoid suspicion of them working together.

Elsa played the part of the graceful ruler exquisitely, for it was no real work to her at all to be pleasant and regal. She hosted balls, visited children's schools, met with dignitaries over dinner. The Order had long suspected her of following her parents' treasonous footsteps, but unlike their Agnarr and Iduna, they'd had no proof to damn her with.

Anna had pretended to tour her planet, attending parties and meeting potential suitors. As much as she had _wanted_ to do all that, in reality the sad remainder of her teenage years had been training with the rebels and secretly sending over funding for whatever their cause needed.

She hadn't given her sister an update and let her known she was okay. _Elsa must be scared out of her mind,_ Anna thought, chiding herself again for screwing up. And now endangering Elsa, too.

"Yes, I remember she always was the boring one," Pitch retorted. "All duty, never any fun. But surely even she might a little have time to aid the Resistance. Maybe time to send her little sister to spy on the Order."

"I'm not a spy," Anna protested. _Only rebel scum_, she thought.

"Well, that might be true. You barely made it to any cells before you got caught with your sloppy try at infiltration. Just who were you looking for?"

Anna pursed her pink lips and looked away from him, staring hard at the wall in front of her.

Pitch crouched down, his face closer to hers. In this low stance, their faces were almost at the same height, and he seemed a little less frightening. "Who were you looking for, Anna?" His low voice was almost tender, as if a little of Koz was breaking through. "It's not in the Order's interests to hurt a young royal. The sooner you tell me, the sooner you can go home to your sister. Believe me."

Anna had to make herself not grimace at that blatant lie. Her parents had been murdered for their defiance to the Order and failing to cover their tracks carefully. The Order didn't care about hurting _those_ royals.

"I'll find out eventually, you know. I always do. It's one of my gifts. Would you like to see? It doesn't hurt." Before she knew it, he laid his pale fingers against her cheek, softly, almost as if he didn't want to touch her.

She shut her eyes and frozen involuntarily, shocked by the horrible, foreign sensation. There was not much physical pain; she just felt his eyes prying through her brain, picking it apart to find the pieces he wanted, like watching a burglar go through your belongings to steal and helpless to do anything about it, only a thousand times worse. Most of the discomfort came more from the emotional distress of struggling to keep him mentally locked out.

"Jack Frost?" For the first time in their reunion, she heard Pitch laugh. "Small galaxy."

Anna didn't know if his powers prevented her from moving or it was her own body's response to the trauma, but she tried to make herself swat his hand away. "Don't touch me," she said through gritted teeth.

To her surprise, he obeyed, moving away from her bed. She opened her eyes, relieved to have him out of her head and able to move her limbs again. But it was short-lived relief.  
"Arendelle sending their royal heir to rescue the Resistance's best pilot. Well." Pitch laughed to himself again, evidently finding the idea of her as a Resistance fighter very funny. "Anna, if you wanted to see him, all you had to do was ask."

"Don't you touch him!"

"I won't lay a hand on your boyfriend. I can't promise I won't use my sand to get some answers I need, though."

"Koz- Pitch." Anna tried, standing up slowly. "Please don't do this. You're not evil. Please let us go."

"I can't do that, I'm afraid. You're a valuable political hostage and Jack has too much knowledge about the Resistance to let you both walk free. And besides… I think you and I have some things to discuss, too."

She didn't know what that meant. Was he going to probe her mind more? He started to leave but she grabbed his arm. "Pitch, don't do this, please. You're still a good person, I know it."

He yanked his arm away, not turning around. "You'll be treated well, I promise you that. I'll send someone over for you shortly."

The doors shut curtly behind him, and Anna sank onto the bed, depressed. She had to think of a way to get her and Jack out, but she was afraid for Pitch too. Not afraid _of_ him, she realized. She knew he had some light inside him. She felt it.

The doors reopened after about a few minutes, to her surprise. She didn't think anyone would be here that fast. She hadn't even decided what to do about getting Jack, but there was no time now. She'd have to wing it. Two Stormtroopers stood in the door way and one gestured for her to get up, which she obeyed reluctantly.


	3. We See Such Different Stars

He called a servant to his quarters and ordered her to find suitable clothing for the Princess and take her to a cabin in his wing "Let her wash, have a change of clothes, and something to eat, then bring her straight to me." Anna must be exhausted and famished. The greater truth, however, was that he wished to question her more thoroughly and away from his men. He had concerns regarding where Arendelle's loyalty lied, and had perfectly legitimate reasons to interrogate the girl privately if he so wished.

He meditated on the Darkness as was his evening ritual for about twenty minutes before there was a knock at his door. He called them in, expecting to see a scrubbed-over Anna in a gown or frock with a servant at her heel.

Instead it was his commander, informing him not one, both their top captives had escaped.

Shadows were thrown around the room, moving and shrieking with minds of their own. The commander paled several shades.

"How?" Was all Pitch could get out when he had calmed down and they set out in a hurry for the control room, seeing red.

"A maintenance stormtrooper let them out, my liege."

Pitch was baffled by this. Their soldiers were trained since birth to be unquestioningly loyal, and there were only a small handful of defected stormtroopers in all Pitch's time in the Order. But no matter.

"And this young girl, frail stick of a boy, and some dysfunctional stormtrooper all got past the most well-trained guards in the galaxy?"

"I did not get a full report, sire. All I was informed of is that there was a struggle. The worker had a pistol on hand. The pilot was almost recaptured, but the princess knocked one guard out with a chair."

Pitch hardly heard another word. Who _was_ Princess Anna, and what had this little spitfire down with her?

Anna and the boys had made it out just in time, though the Lightkiller had almost caught up them by the time they'd realized the three had left.

The worker's name was a jumble of letters and numbers too confusing to say every time, so Jack had offered to simply call the other young man Kristoff, since it some of his official title's letters in it. The brawny, blonde stormtrooper seemed to like it well and agreed. He had had enough of violence and oppression and finally took the chance to escape when he came across Jack.

Anna was grateful and couldn't thank her new friend enough. She had to stop herself from squeezing poor Jack too hard in a tight embrace, she was so happy to see him again. But her spirits could not remain high while the trio traveled somewhere safer. Her mind replayed the events in her cell over and over again like a broken hologram.

"I didn't know it was him," she whispered. Kozmotis had been alive this whole time, but turned into a monster and serving an evil empire. _Poor Koz_, she thought. She felt as though he had in a way died after all. Almost nothing about her peaceful childhood had lasted.

"Him who?" Kristoff asked. Jack, needing medical care, had collapsed into exhaustion on Kristoff's shoulder, with Anna's wrinkled cape draped over him.

"Pitch Black. I knew him. Before he went evil!"

"Didn't know there was ever a time he wasn't," Kristoff muttered darkly.

"It's true. His real name is Kozmotis Pitchiner. He was a good friend of my parents. I saw him a lot growing up." She didn't add that she had seen him as more than a friend when she reached her teenage years, and had innocently hoped he might one day court her when she was old enough. She knew he was fond of her too.

A memory she hadn't thought of for awhile resurfaced in her brain, too painful to ever think of much. The last ball her parents had ever held, when she was around fifteen. It was festive and pleasant, but the atmosphere was tinged with sorrow. Nobody would say it outright, but Elsa had told her in secret she knew it was in celebration of hope- that the Resistance would win, that this would not need to be the last commemoration of peace shared by the people.

Koz had actually _asked_ her to dance. She was giddy with joy, getting to dance with the accomplished young general who liked to hear her chatter while everyone looked on. They had danced twice, one sprightly dance, another slower. She could see Koz was enjoying himself too. She hadn't known he liked dancing as much as she did. She was nervous to ask him if he would visit her again when the war was over, once the First Order was destroyed forever, but made herself do it. She thought she might sound childish, worried he could sense her crush, afraid he'd say he didn't want to.

Kozmotis had paused only half a second. "I don't know when or if it'll ever be over, Anna. I don't even know if I'll survive it."

She must have looked stricken, because his smile returned. "But there's a good chance I will. And I'll visit you again. Maybe at your own ball."

The rest of the her memory of that night was fuzzy, but she knew it had been wonderful. She and Kristoff talked for a bit, getting to know each other, make a plan for what to do once they landed wherever they landed. After awhile they both agreed to rest. Anna leaned her head against the window of the pod, staring out at the magnificent sea of stars glittering all around her. She loved looking at them. It was her favorite little perk about working in the Resistance: she got to travel a lot, and when she did, she could stare at the universe and try to see the constellations or count the suns and moons of various planets she'd learned as a child.

They looked like bits of broken diamonds, she thought. Shattered lights, people's hopes that someone had destroyed and strewn across the galaxy. But the stars were always beautiful and bright; she knew they wouldn't go out. As long as there was even a little light, hope would never be extinguished for good in anything or any person, just like those stars.


	4. A Moth to a Flame

They had never caught the rebels. It had taken a few hours for Pitch's fury to cool down. He had a thousand ideas of how to punish the bathroom scrubber and that pasty little pilot once he got his hands on them, each more creative than the last. They humiliated him in front of his men, his master. Only the Darkness understood. It forgave him his weaknesses and uplifted him when others would tear him down.

He would have to punish Anna when she was returned to him, but he felt no enthusiasm in the thought of hurting her like he did the boys. He would reprimand her to be sure, but there must be a better way than punishment for her.

An image of red hair and a green gown flashed in his mind from years ago that changed to a young woman in a green uniform with a tense face. Still bright as the dawn, but in the prison cell she looked more like a wilted flower from a hard rain with her face tense and clothes sweat-soaked. She really _was_ grown up; her parents' deaths had obviously taken a toll on her, and her blue eyes no longer shone with the vivacious dreams of youth, but instead had the look of a fantasist who at long last has accepted that life gives no happy endings. He even saw a little of Agnarr's determination in her face.

But seeing her look so small in that cell, questioning him with desperate hope, he saw she really was that silly little princess deep down, naively thinking there was a trace of feeble Pitchiner's soul inside him that she could reach out to and rescue.

_"But… you do remember me? How we used to be friends?"_ The second he had heard the name _Princess Anna_, memories had rushed back like a torrent; seeing her for the first time in years in that cell brought back an image of him taking her hand for a dance and her cheeks flushing in excitement of the ball. When he interrogated her, he had felt strange, and called on the Darkness for strength, before reproaching himself for letting her childlike attempts to weaken his resolve work.

_"Could you visit me again after the war's over?"_ Naïve or not, she wasn't truly a child anymore, no more than he was still General Kozmotis Pitchener. She was an active traitor against the First Order. Looking like a moon angel didn't make her one.

_"…But you _do_ remember me?"_

He scowled. Her whole appearance at his base had for some reason shaken him up, and he hated the feeling. Pitch Black had been born anew from the ashes of Kozmotis Pitchiner, and all aspects of that pathetic man's life had died with him.

All except Anna, apparently.

He would find her. She was no idiot or weakling, he saw that clearly in her mind beyond the grief and the dreams of happiness and love she still foolishly clutched onto. He would help her shed those childish things that held her back and show her the beauty of the Dark Side and the Being that it came from, where all true power lied. She was so lonely, he'd seen. Even lonelier than him. She couldn't say no. She had seen he held no intention of harming her.

He would just need to dim her brightness, that beacon of hope and courage inside her. Her mind was full of it and it had burned him to feel it. Even in the pain, he had felt drawn to it, something that alarmed him greatly. Darkness forgive him, but he loved that brightness as much as he hated it, and he could never let his men know.

_I never forgot you, Anna. I could never._

_But for your sake and mine, I wish I did. _


End file.
